Apprentice
by Melting Angels
Summary: It was the wails of a child, that drew Gandalf to the scene. A scene of horror, one the wizard would never forget. Amongst the corpses of wargs and elves, a single elfling...survived. It was the way that the child ceased its cries, when it saw Gandalf. And it was a fatherly love...that caused the wizard...to hold onto the child... [Movieverse]
1. Prologue

**Summary:**

It was the wails of a child, that drew Gandalf to the scene. A scene of horror, one the wizard would never forget. Amongst the corpses of wargs and elves, a single elfling...survived. It was the way that the child ceased its cries, when it saw Gandalf. And it was a fatherly love...that caused the wizard...to hold onto the child...

_This...the idea came to me when I was re-watching The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey. When Gandalf speaks of the other four wizards, I wondered why they never took up apprentices. And thus, this fic was born._

**Gandalf was said to be around 6000 years old in the LOTR movies, due to him being one of the Maiar (if thats the right spelling). And this fic is set probably 200 years before the events of The Hobbit.**

I have seen all the LOTR films, and both Hobbit films. Whilst I have read the Hobbit book, I have not yet read the LOTR trilogy of books. Some of my knowledge may be innacurate, so feel free to input your Tolkien knowledge in a review!

**Before we begin, I want to thank you for reading this fic ~**

_I've tried writing this in a style similar to the Hobbit book ~_

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The sun shone down on Middle Earth that day. There had been no clouds in the sky, leaving it clear, and shining blue. The heat the sun bore down was not stifling, nor was it too mild. The weather had found the right balance, a rather rare occurrence. Bright and beautiful, the sun reflected off of the swirling lakes and rivers, filtering through the leaves of trees, creating a welcoming, summery atmosphere. It seemed that nothing could go wrong that day.

* * *

A low humming could be heard, as a lone wizard strolled down a winding path, content in his own company. The elderly man's aura was calming, and his smile reflected this. However, this wizard was no ordinary wizard. This was no meer human sorcerer, either. This was Gandalf the Grey, a member of the Istari, an incredibly powerful sorceror. He was one of the fee wizards left in Middle Earth. Well, it was hard to tell his strength, for the elderly man was so laid back, it was hard to imagine the great power he commanded.

Joyful as he always was, Gandalf was simply making a visit to Rivendell, home of Lord Elrond. The two had not met in many years, and the wizard figured a visit was long overdue. He was walking slow, for he was in no rush, and wished to take in the beautiful, peaceful scenery of Middle Earth.

It was halfway through his journey, that he heard a strange noise. At first, he assumed it to be an animal of some sort. However, once he listened closely, he realised that it was the wailing of a child in distress. Worry began to take over, and so the wizard rushed off in the direction of the heart-wrenching sound.

After a few moments of dodging tree branches, the surprisingly fast wizard found himself in a clearing, seemingly the source of the cries. It was with horrified eyes that Gandalf took in the scene before him. Before him was a scene of carnage. Orcs corpses littered the ground, the smell of decay lingering in the air. Along with the smell of decay, was the disgusting stench of congealing blood. As he dared to venture closer, he realized the wails had gotten louder since his arrival.

Gandalf looked over the scene, eyes searching for the child. As the wizard did so, he felt a shiver run down his spine. Cradled in the arms of a dead she-elf, was the source of the wails. An elfling, no more than a month old, was looking Gandalf in the eyes. The piercing stare of the child's iridescent emerald eyes momentarily startled the old wizard.

Only for a mere moment, however. The wizard was quickly moved into action, avoiding the Orcs corpses as he ventured towards the child, who had since ceased its cries. Just as he went to retrieve the child, Gandalf noticed another dead elf at his feet. The elf was clearly the father, and it seemed as if he had fought till his last breath.

After reaching down, the sun bearing down on him, the elderly wizard closed the warrior's eyes, uttering a few words to show his respect.

It was with a deep breath, that the wizard reached for the child. He was not well experienced with children. The experience he did possess was fleeting, and barely memorable. Yet, Gandalf picked up the child, cradling the elfling in his arms. He ran his fingers through the tufts of hair, a startling deep shade of Black, comparable to that of Ravens feathers.

Something about the elfling unnerved Gandalf. There was something odd about the child. Muterring the words of an ancient spell, Gandalf found something surprising. The tiny elfling possessed a magic core within her. A place to convert the energy within the body, into magical power. Such a strong core had not been seen since the birth of the five Istari, thousands of years ago. The spell also revealed the elflings gender.

It was a little she-elf.

And this tiny body...held a potential that had managed to shock Gandalf the Grey.

Shaking himself out of his stupor, the wizard examined the child, hoping that it had suffered no injuries. As he adjusted the child in his arms, he found relief that the babe was uninjured. What was alarming, was the signs of dehydration. How long had this child's wails gone unnoticed? Fearing for the child, Gandalf adjusted the tiny elfling, taking his staff in his free hand. With all his energy, he picked up the pace, renewed with purpose to reach Rivendell.


	2. Chapter 1- Rivendell

**I want to thank the four reviewers of the first chapter, as well as those who favourited and followed me/this story! However, I would really appreciate if you, reader, reviewed as well as favouriting/following. Seeing people comment on my fics gives me inspiration to keep writing. Reviews let me know what to improve on, and even ideas on what to add in. I know people are probably too busy to review, but even a simple 'great chapter' would really brighten my day! :)**

Now that's said and done, I want to establish that this elf is NOT Tauriel. I hate Tauriel with a PASSION. I will not rant here, but if you too dislike Tauriel, my PM is open so we can talk :')

_Also, another reviewer was confused how the elfling had power equal to that of a Maiar. All will be explained._

And she won't get strong easily. It will take a heck of a lot of training, trust me. I'm hoping this fic is somewhat successful, because I already have a sequel idea, as well as how to tie this in with The Hobbit, and Lord of the Rings.

_Before we start, I do not know alot about elven lore in LOTR, or how fast the elves age. I will put to it that they age the same as humans, for now, unless I am informed otherwise. _

There is alot of talking, and this is somewhat of a 'filler chapter', but I promise it will get going next chapter, or the one after. I do not intend to rush this story.

**Enjoy, and, if you can, review ~**

* * *

The House of Elrond was quiet on this day. The sunlight reflected off of the many cascading waterfalls, giving the clear liquid a vibrant shimmer, as if it were not water, but hundreds of clear jewels flowing down the walls of the valley. Mixing with the calm swirling of water, was the sounds of flutes and harps, delicate melodies creating a calm, relaxing atmosphere. The elf lord himself, Elrond, was sat in quiet in his study, idly flicking through one of his favourite novels. It was rare for him to have such a moment of peace and tranquility- his rambunctious sons often caused chaos in the valley, notorious for their pranks and mischievious ways. It was with that knowledge, that Lord Elrond relished his moments of quiet, leaning back in his chair, as he caught the sun's rays. As he closed the book with a satisifed sigh, the elf lord closed his eyes.

Only to have the door to his peaceful oasis slammed open, smashing against the stone wall with a loud bang, startling the elf Lord. After he had steadied himself, Lord Elrond looked up, to see his sons, Elladan, and Elrohir, wearing looks of pure shock, their hair mussed from the obvious rush they were in.

"What reason could you possibly have to interrupt me?" Elrond sat up, resting his arms on his writing desk.

"Gandalf." Elladan spoke up.

"And what about him?" Elrond frowned.

"He is here." Elrohir smoothed down his hair, grimacing as he felt the tangles.

"Why?" Elrond stood, confused as to why Gandalf had arrived in Rivendell.

"You-you'll see. He's in the infirmary." Elladan backed away as Elrond exited the room, stopping upon hearing his son's words.

"Is he injured?" Elrond asked.

"No...but...there's a child with him..." Elrohir added in.

Confused, but also concerned, Elrond rushed down the halls of Rivendell, his sons following closely. The three elves moved swiftly, causing any fellow elves and servants to dodge nimbly out of the way. As they made their way to the infirmary, they were interrupted by a familiar voice. Arwen joined them, walking speedily alongside Elrond. She seemed as confused as her father, but she knew that Gandalf appearing, unprecedented, could perhaps mean that a problem had arisen. With haste, they soon reached Rivendell's infirmary, where the elderly wizard's familiar voice could be heard. As the twins had said, Gandalf was there, standing by one of the healers, with a bundle in his arms.

"Ah." Gandalf turned around. "Lord Elrond. Forgive me for intruding without announcing my prescence."

"Nothing needs to be forgiven, my friend. You are always welcome here." Elrond approached the wizard, smiling warmly, before frowning at the silk blanket bundle in the wizard's arms.

Noticing the elf lord's confusion, Gandalf adjusted the blanket, so the tiny elfling's face could be seen. The wide eyed young baby looked up at Elrond, and reached up to touch his hair. The baby made a gurgling sound, a small smile on its chubby face. The innocent little elfling caused the elf lord to smile.

"Why, Gandalf, do you carry this young elfling?" Elrond asked, hair still trapped within the baby's little fist.

"He's smiling." Elrohir commented.

"A rare occurence." Elladan smirked.

"Be quiet. I wish to hear how this..." Elrond finally freed his hair, and gestured to the child. "Occurred."

"Ah, yes, I do owe an explanation." Gandalf nodded. "I was on my way here, to pay a visit, when I heard a child's cry. It sounded distressed, so I went to...investigate. What I found...was not pleasant."

The room fell silent, all chatter ceasing at the wizard's tone.

"A clearing...was littered with orc corpses. They could not have been too old, as their bodies were not...decomposing yet. I looked further, and found this little she-elf, in the arms of who I presumed was her mother." Gandalf continued.

"...was?" Arwen paled.

"Regrettably, the mother had already passed. I found the child in her arms." Gandalf gently handed the child over to one of the healers, so they could assess her health. "There was a male elf with them, whom had also passed. Presumably, that brave elf was the father. It seemed he fought until his last breath."

"It is a miracle the child was not harmed." Elrond spoke, saddened by the tale.

"Indeed." Gandalf agreed. "I did...notice something...about that child."

"What did you find?" Elrond was somewhat confused.

"She possesses a magical core." Gandalf spoke. "And it is strong. Extremely so, for one so small."

"That should not be possible, Gandalf. The only ones to possess such cores were the Maiar, and you know as well as I that they mostly died out centuries ago." Elrond frowned, looking over at the child, who was being inspected by healers.

"Yet that child has one. There is a possibility, that she may be a descendant, of one of the first Maiar. It seems the most likely, and plausible explanation." Gandalf explained.

"She is not one of the Maiar, Gandalf. The Maiar were not known to have families with the first elves." Elrond was still shocked at the revelation Gandalf had just spoken of.

"One must have, Lord Elrond, otherwise this child could not possibly exist." Gandalf raised an eyebrow.

After a moment of thought, Elrond sighed heavily, his sons and daughter wearing looks of pure shock on their youthful faces.

"Perhaps you are right, Gandalf. But one matter still concerns me. Where did her family come from? Did they have others with them?" Elrond frowned.

"There were no others with them, yet they did not carry any travelling necessities. They must have had a home nearby." Gandalf mused.

"We can worry about that another time. I will send some of my warriors to dispose of the corpses. Which direction were these orcs?" Elrond asked.

"If I remember correctly, directly east of your gates, perhaps a few hours away." Gandalf nodded.

Elrond's face suddenly turned stern, and slightly angered.

"Why were orcs so far past the borders?" Elrond brought up.

"That is a question that I too, have been thinking of." Gandalf sighed.

"It is troubling, for them to wander so close to our borders."

"It is indeed."

* * *

Some time later, as the more 'important' elves of Rivendell gathered for the evening meal, the healers informed Gandalf that the child was alright, dehydrated, but otherwise, alright. The relief could be seen on the wizard's face when he received the message, and a smile found its way onto his face. It was with renewed vigor that he joined Lord Elrond and his children at the table, the relaxing sound of elven melodies filling the air, as they ate. When they were about halfway through the delicious meal, Lord Elrond finally spoke up, looking directly at Gandalf.

"What is it you intend to do with this child?" Elrond enquired.

"I was hoping that one of the nurses here could take care of the child, if only for a short while. A matter such as this must be brought to Saruman's attention." Gandalf answered.

"I see." Elrond looked down for a moment, before looking back up. "What about when the child grows? I do not mind housing the elfling, but her powers...what do you have in mind, Gandalf?"

"After I have consulted with Saruman, I hope to teach the elfling what I know...when she is mature enough to learn it. If she does not learn to harness her strengths, the power could corrupt her. I have not seen such ability before." Gandalf carried on.

"You will teach her to become a sorceress?" Elrond was surprised.

"Indeed." Gandalf nodded.

"I see. How old will the elfling need to be, to begin learning?"

"When she can walk, I will show her simple spells, small enchantments to amuse her, and help control her energy. When she is five years of age, I will increase the difficulty of her lessons. I hope to be teaching her battle enchantments by the age of thirteen."

"So young..."

"She is, but if she is taught from a young age, it will be easier. However, I do not plan for her abilities to dominate her life. I wish for her to have as normal an upbringing as possible."

After hearing this, Lord Elrond smiled.

"You care alot for this child, Gandalf." Elrond shook his head.

"Yes." Gandalf smiled to himself. "Yes, I do."


	3. Chapter 2- Ithilwen

**Wow, we have 12 reviews already! And, 7 faves, 15 follows?! For only 2 chapters? Wow, thanks for the support so far, everyone! You're all awesome!**

A reviewer, **'ACreativeHobbit'**, informed me of the details of elven aging, according to Tolkien himself. This is what I have been informed of:

_'__Elves reach puberty at age fifty, and at that age reach full adult height. At age one hundred, they're fully grown. But of course, that's like a twenty year old in human terms.'_

From this, I take that elves age somewhat slower than humans? It seems so. If their puberty is age fifty, probably around 10 human years or something? That would make sense, elves are immortal, they have such a long lifespan. So, I will write it as best I can. There will be a few timeskips throughout the fic, to save it dragging. I will write to the best of my ability.

_If you have ANY knowledge of the lore behind the Maiar, or even an online elvish dictionary, that would be most helpful! Feel free to share your theories on where the fic goes, I try to reply to every review! _

**Now, this was a difficult chapter for me to write. It was especially hard to choose a name for my character. In terms of a last name, I looked up, to see if Gandalf had one. Whilst searching wikipedia, I found that his many names include:**

Greyhame, Stormcrow, Olórin, Incánus, Tharkûn, Gandalf the Grey, Gandalf the White, Mithrandir, The Grey Pilgrim, The White Rider, Láthspell.

**Now you can see my pain. In terms of first names, I searched long and hard for ones with meaning. I found these names:**

Aradhel- _'noble elf'_

_(also the name of a female character in The Silmarillion)_

Tinuviel- _'nightingale'_

Allora- _'divine counsellor'_

Vendethiel- _'maiden'_

Caladwen- _'light'_

Ithilwen- _'moon'_

**There were ALOT more I went through, literally a hundred names, but alas, I could only choose one. I even thought of calling my character 'Silmaril', as a tribute to The Silmarillion.  
**

_Hopefully you all enjoy this chapter! Normally, I would leave a week between updates, but whilst I am inspired, I might as well update! I honestly didn't expect to get so many reviews so quickly O_o''_

**Enjoy, 'tis a short chapter, but more will be on the way later this week ~**

* * *

After the evening meal, just as the sun was setting over the peaceful valley of Imladris, the great wizard, Gandalf the Grey, was sitting on one of Rivendell's many balconies, overlooking the beautiful, picturesque scenery that lay before him, the slow churning of water somewhat soothing to the ears. Something else calmed the elderly wizard, also. The young elfling babe sleeping in his arms brought him a sense of happiness, and calm. Having the youngling to look after, was simultaneously worrying, and enjoyable. Whilst he had yet to name the child, Gandalf already felt a sense of responsibility towards the child, not just because of her unusual strength. Smiling warmly, the lines on his face emphasizing the smile, the wizard gently stroked the child's head, pulling the silken blankets tighter. It was upon seeing this, that Elrond chose to approach quietly.

"Gandalf." Elrond leaned on the balcony, turning to look at his old friend.

"Yes?" the wizard looked up, one of the baby's hands wrapped around his pinky finger.

"I was wondering over dinner...what will the elfling's name be? It seems her parents did not give her one, or perhaps it was lost." Elrond spoke up.

"I have put alot of thought into that matter, but I cannot choose one."

"I see."

The two friends looked out, across the valley. As the sun became lit with shades of orange and red, a kaleidoscope of warm colours, it cast light shadows onto the smaller homes below. After a moment of silence, Gandalf smiled to himself. Yes, it had taken him many hours to choose the child a new name, but after much thought, he had chosen one.

"No...I have chosen one." Gandalf nodded to himself, smiling down fondly at the small child. "Ithilwen."

"Interesting choice, Gandalf." Elrond shook his head. Whilst the name was unusual, it was unusually fitting for the child. "What of a last name? One must be given to her."

"I decided on that first, my friend. It was a rather obvious choice."

"You mean to give her yours, Gandalf?"

"It seemed fitting, given that I found her."

"It...is rather fitting. I will admit that."

Yet another moment passed in silence, as the first stars began to appear in the sky.

"The child is welcome here, Gandalf. I sense you were about to ask for her to remain here." Elrond raised an eyebrow, smiling a knowing smile.

"You know my intentions. Yes, I would be most grateful if you could take care of Ithilwen here." the wizard nodded, a sense of relief coursing through his body.

"It will be no trouble at all, my old friend." Elrond smiled warmly.

* * *

The next morning, just as the first rays of sunlight cast their beams onto the valley, Gandalf rose, swiftly preparing for the journey ahead of him. Even with a horse, and the aid of some sly spells, it could still take him more than a month, possibly several, to reach Isengard, where Saruman dwelled. It was quite a distance to his fellow wizard's abode, and Gandalf was somewhat reluctant to leave. At first, he had considered sending a raven, and summoning Saruman here to the valley of Imladris, but he did not wish to make Ithilwen's existence widespread, as of yet. He had suspected the orc pack that had killed the elflings parents, had some inkling of the child's hidden strengths, and he did not wish to endanger the young elf he had come to care for so deeply. Keeping this matter between but a few, was the wiser decision at hand.

Determined, Gandalf slung his battered leather satchel over his shoulder, adjusting the ancient wizard's hat on his head, free hand gripping the famous, magical staff. Keeping his footsteps light, he travelled over to the house's Nursery, where a trusted maid was watching over the little Ithilwen. With no noise, he edged the door open, and saw the child sleeping soundly in her cradle, swathed with the softest of silk blankets, the nurse sleeping in an armchair nearby. Not wanting to wake the surely exhausted maiden, Gandalf remained silent as he walked to Ithilwen's cradle, eyes softening at the sight of the sleeping child. Reaching down, he found himself surprised, as he felt himself holding back tears, whilst he stroked the elfling's head soothingly, causing the little one to smile in her peaceful sleep.

"Do not worry, my little elf." Gandalf smiled warmly. "I will return to you."


	4. Chapter 3- Saruman

**Hi everyone! I am back now! Thanks for the lovely reviews, as well as those who have favourited and followed. Now, we only got 2 reviews for the previous chapter...but it wasn't very exciting...so...well, I will take that as people did not enjoy the chapter so much.**

I will try to improve. Now, before we begin, I want to talk about a 'review' I received. I recently sent a message around informing everyone of the new update. One reviewer came back that they will not be reading my story. I will not name the reviewer, but their PM reply was as follows:

_Thank you for the head's up but I am not following your fine story. It is not in my line. _

I respectfully replied, as I cannot, and do not wish, to force anyone to read my story. They sent another message soon after, talking about two things, and these were their words:

_1 - a reviewer wrote that characters are "in character". This is hogwash - the prankster twins are fanon. There is nothing in canon to suggest they were. And they have spent the last 500 years butchering orcs. That is since Columbus for us._

_2 - Maiar dying out. That made me wince. Such a statement says that the author has no idea what he or she is writing about._

_Why write in a fandom you know so little about?_

Now, I have stated in my author's notes that I have NOT read the books, and thus my knowledge is somewhat limited. Therefore, I was unaware that the prankster twins were a fan created idea. However, I do like that idea, and seeing as this is a fanfiction, I feel it is alright to take creative license. In regards to the Maiar, yes, again, I know little about their origins and lore. Yes, I don't know what I am writing about really, when it comes to the Maiar. But, like I have said in my authors notes, any knowledge is welcome. Feel free to review with pieces of information, or somewhere to find out info.

**The real reason I featured this message in my author's note, is the final line: **_Why write in a fandom you know so little about?_

_Why?_

I will say why. I fell in love with the story of Lord of the Rings, and The Hobbit. I enjoyed the magic of the Hobbit book and films, and the dark, gritty Lord of the Rings films. I absolutely love the story, and have major respect for JRR Tolkien for creating such an incredible, complex set of stories. I write in this fandom for those reasons, and due to this being fanfiction, I believe it is alright for an author to take creative licenses.

**Now, I do not wish that to come across as an angry rant. I really respect that reviewer for telling me how they feel about my story. It goes without saying, tell me how you feel about Apprentice. Point out anything you believe can be improved, share any lore that can be applied. I appreciate any and all reviews for my work.**

I apologize for the long author's note, readers.

_I really am sorry for the long author's note._

**This chapter is rather short, and mostly dialogue, but this needed to be written. Enjoy ~**

* * *

As Gandalf approached the forests of Isengard, he paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. The journey to Saruman had been a long, arduous one, rather dull, in fact. However, the discovery of Ithilwen had to be discussed. Gandalf was concerned about the possible reaction to the young elfling, another reason why Gandalf had traveled to Isengard, and not summoned Saruman to Rivendell. The matter would attract unwanted attention, from the more questionable beings of Middle Earth, so it was best to speak with the White Wizard as soon as were possible. Having cleared his thoughts, Gandalf urged his horse, Shadowfax, to continue on, the elderly wizard looking up at Isengard's grand tower, surrounded by beautiful, picturesque foliage, and sheltered by ancient trees, perhaps as old as Gandalf himself. The wizard reached the doors of Isengard within mere moments, shock coursing through the elderly man as he saw Saruman standing at Isengard's entrance, expression calm, and neutral.

"Gandalf. I sensed your presence. Why have you come to Isengard?" Saruman walked slowly down the steps, gripping his wizard's staff tightly, white robes almost shining with power.

"I have an urgent matter to speak with you about." Gandalf explained, dismounting his horse, and retrieving his own conduit of power.

"It must be urgent, for you to come unannounced." Saruman raised an eyebrow.

"Do forgive me for the intrusion, but this matter cannot simply wait."

"Is that the case? Well, you have travelled quite the distance, Gandalf, so I will not send you away. Come, if we are to speak of this matter of 'great importance', it is best we do so inside."

Nodding respectfully to the white wizard, Gandalf followed Saruman up the steps of Isengard, leaving Shadowfax in the safety of Isengard's forest.

* * *

When the two were seated in a council room, candles dimly lighting the room, Gandalf began his tale, speaking of his journey to Rivendell, and how he came across the scene of carnage in which he had found young Ithilwen. The wizard was about to continue, and speak of the elfling's hidden strength, when he was interrupted.

"An elfling? The child was still alive?" Saruman leant backwards in his chair.

"Yes. It is remarkable she survived, given that her parents did not." Gandalf nodded.

"I sense there is more to your tale. Continue." Saruman gestured for Gandalf to continue the story.

"When I held the elfling, I felt something rather strange. I used an enchantment, to see if the child was injured in any way, but instead I found something astonishing." Gandalf continued.

"Astonishing, you say?" Saruman narrowed his eyes.

"Very much so. The elfling possesses a sorcerer's core." Gandalf concluded.

"Are you sure of this, Gandalf?" Saruman frowned.

"I am, old friend. The strength this small elfling possesses is extraordinary." Gandalf reassured.

"How would an elfling possess a magical core? The only ones to have such cores were the Maiar, and it is not written that they fraternized with the elves."

"And yet, this child exists."

The room fell into silence, as Saruman thought on the matter. His first reaction had been one of shock, but now he was finding himself concerned. The power could overwhelm and corrupt the elfling as they grew, for such power had been unseen for centuries.

"The power will corrupt her." Saruman concluded. "Such power is...difficult to picture. An elf cannot wield the strength of that esteemed race."

"I will not let it corrupt Ithilwen." Gandalf spoke.

"Ithilwen?" Saruman spoke incredulously. "You named the child?"

"I did. Her name, if she had one, died with her parents, so I saw fit to bestow one upon her." Gandalf frowned.

"You grew attached to this...child?" Saruman's eyes narrowed.

"I will admit I am attached to the child." Gandalf answered.

"You say you will not let the power corrupt her. How do you intend on preventing such an event, Gandalf?" Saruman asked, straightening in his seat.

"I intend to pass my knowledge onto her."

"You mean to teach her our ways? Teach an elf the ways of a sorceror?"

"Indeed, I do."

"It cannot be done. Only a few elves have ever become able to wield magic. And those did not possess such a strong core."

"It can be done. I will not let Ithilwen be corrupted."

Another moment of silence passed, as the tension between the two wizards grew exponentially. Saruman eventually rose to his feet, pure power emanating from him.

"See that she is not." Saruman's voice deepened as his show of power grew, the room growing darker. "Such power could be used to terrible effect. If the child is corrupted, Gandalf, I will see fit to end her existence. Permanently."


	5. Chapter 4- Grave Mistake

**I am very sorry for leaving it a bit longer between updates this time. I haven't been feeling well, but since I feel somewhat better today, I gathered my powers to update.**

To _Book girl fan, _the reviewer who suggested labelling my story's summary 'Movieverse', thank you. That should clear up confusion for any hardcore Tolkien fans.

_Alot of people wondered if Ithilwen would have a love interest. I will see how the story progresses, but I am sure there will be an eventual love interest, although that will take time. Alot of time. ALOT of time. Popular picks seem to be Kili and Fili, and personally, I like those. I lean towards Fili because he is under-appreciated. But anyway. We will see what happens._

**Thanks for the support thus far. Enjoy the chapter, alot longer than usual ~**

_Warning beforehand: Timeskip..._

* * *

The sun was slowly rising over Rivendell, the first rays of the sun barely arching over the edges of the valley, reflecting off of the numerous waterfalls and flowing rivers. Peaceful as it had been this past age, Rivendell had not yet awoken, save for one. Gandalf the Grey, a famed wizard in Middle Earth, was sitting silently in one of the many beautiful gardens in the Valley, enjoying the peace and seclusion. Eyes closed, the wizard was dwelling on a single subject. Ithilwen, the child whom he had rescued from the orc carnage six years ago. The time had passed so fast, each day bringing them closer to the year Ithilwen would begin practicing magic. Gandalf had wished to prevent this for as long as he could- for he too feared how the power could corrupt the elfling. Whilst the wizard had confidence in her strength, Saruman's words, spoken so many years ago, had begun to weigh on his heart.

However, over the years, Ithilwen had blossomed under the care of the elves, and her sweet, innocent nature, hiding her mischievous inner nature, the child was so far unaware of the power within her. So far, Gandalf had counted this as a blessing- once she learned the truth, her entire path would be changed, and she would lose her innocence, her childlike, carefree nature.

As the sun rose higher, it brought Gandalf ever closer to the time he had dreaded. Today, the day Ithilwen would reach the age of six seasons, he would tell her of the power within her, and the responsibility she had to hone it, to control it. She would hear the tale of how she came to be in Rivendell, and that Gandalf was just the one who found her, and not related to her in any way. She would realize that, living through the carnage, she was lucky to be alive. Ithilwen would know that her true parents had died, died protecting her, cut down by orcs. Whilst Gandalf dreaded revealing this to the elfling, still so young and pure, he knew her power development would have to start soon. Over the years, the sense of magic within her had grown stronger. Each year, the core increased in its capacity. Elrond had even been able to sense it, on occasion, his sons even sometimes gaining a shiver down their spines, when looking upon Ithilwen. The sorcery within her was steadily growing, and if her training was delayed any further, it could end, as Saruman had claimed, in disaster.

With a heavy heart, the elderly wizard rose to his feet, and began to walk towards Ithilwen's room, the words he wished to say twisting in his head, not able to form the way he wished them to. There was no feasible way that this would be an easy task, and the pressure caused Gandalf to sigh heavily.

* * *

As he found himself at the end of the long, marbled hall, knowing Ithilwen slept in the room at the end, Gandalf stopped. He still could not find the correct way to word what he had to tell her, despite years of dwelling on the subject. Sighing, the wizard continued on. As he approached Ithilwen's room, however, he sensed something disturbing. Frowning, Gandalf paused for another moment, gripping his conduit of power tighter, the grip causing splinters to fall from the staff. Standing mere feet from her door, he would normally feel the presence of her magical core, her essence. Yet...this day...he could not sense it.

A sense of foreboding grew in Gandalf's mind, and the wizard quickened his pace, before pulling open the wooden door with force, his worry increasing when he realized that his enchantment had vanished from the lock.

A slight breeze made the wizard shiver, and it was, with a jolt, that he realized the window was open. Ithilwen had been instructed to keep it locked, and Gandalf himself had placed enchantments, to ensure that no one, save himself or Ithilwen, could leave or enter the room. For years, he had told the elfling it was for her protection, and the elfling believed it normal, not knowing the true reason, dismissing it as a parent's concern.

For years, Gandalf had feared that Saruman would seek the child out, and act upon his own volition. Many times, through letters, the wizard had urged Gandalf to 'end' the elfling, to save Middle Earth the trouble of housing such a dangerous existence, the wizard's original begrudging acceptance of Ithilwen vanishing as the years went on. This was the reason Gandalf saw fit to enchant the locks to the child's room, so that she would be safe as she slept. With the delicate, even intricate enchantments, the wizard had not appointed a guard to Ithilwen's room, believing his power to be sufficient.

Yet, as the wizard laid his eyes on the empty, bloodstained bed, and the floor coated with crystals of shattered glass...

He found that he...for the first time in eons...

Had made a grave mistake.

* * *

Elrond was abruptly awoken from his peaceful rest, when the door to his private room was thrust open, clashing against the wall with a painfully loud noise. Rising to his feet, the elf lord was ready to punish whomever had dared to disturb him at such early hours. Mouth opening, ready to scold the intruder, Elrond was soon silenced when he saw who it was. Gandalf was standing at his door, face filled with an anger that none had witnessed for an age.

Frowning, the elf lord stepped forward, expression one of concern.

"Forgive the intrusion, Lord Elrond, but this is a matter of grave importance." the wizard was attempting to keep calm, although his expression betrayed him.

"What is the matter, my friend?" Elrond asked.

"It is Ithilwen." Gandalf's expression softened. "She has been taken from us."

Elrond's eyes widened at the news, and he straightened up immediately.

"By whom?" the elf lord was perplexed.

Who would be able to break the enchantments on Ithilwen's room? Yes, a particular being did come to mind, but the elf lord hoped, prayed, that the culprit was not who he had thought.

"I believe Saruman has grown impatient with us, and has taken matters into his own hands." Gandalf began to lead Elrond to Ithilwen's room.

"I see. Are you sure it is him, Gandalf?" Elrond enquired.

"Not him directly, perhaps, but maybe a servant of his. Perhaps someone he lent his power to." Gandalf stopped just outside Ithilwen's room.

Seeing the blood, Elrond paled slightly. He began to fear that the elfling had been injured, and so he turned to Gandalf, who was staring at the damaged room with barely contained anger.

"There was a struggle." Gandalf finally spoke up.

"How can you tell, Gandalf?" Elrond too, was growing angered.

"On the floor, I can see faint scorch marks. I believe that, indirectly, Ithilwen was able to fight back. I believe her inner strength allowed her to put up a fight. The blood...if it is hers...I fear even more for her safety." Gandalf took a deep breath. "Which is why, my friend, I must make haste. An enchantment has given me an inkling of how far they are from here. Mere hours. With my power, I hope to catch whomever took Ithilwen, and bring her back before the sun has set."

The determination was etched into the wizard's face, and seeing this caused Elrond to clench his fists. He too, cared for the elfling. She was like a daughter to him, a companion to Arwen, and a friend to his sons. It was, with warm memories flashing through his mind, that Elrond made his decision.

"You will not be alone, my friend. I will accompany you to retrieve Ithilwen." Elrond looked at Gandalf.

"I would rather carry out this task myself." Gandalf turned, and began to stride in the direction of the stables.

Catching up to the elderly wizard, Elrond placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"I can understand why you wish to carry out this task alone, mellon, but I care for Ithilwen also. I will help you, whether you choose to accept it or not." Elrond spoke firmly.

Shoulders sagging slightly, Gandalf reluctantly agreed.

"I will ask for Ithilwen's room to be...repaired. I must also ask my sons to watch over Rivendell in my stead. Retrieve the supplies you may need, and I shall be with you in a few moments." Elrond turned, and ran down the marbled hall, something that was not often seen.

The elf lord was normally calm and collected, and a voice of reason...

But today...

That voice of reason was not there.

* * *

Mere hours from the Valley of Imladris, a cloaked horseman was making haste across the vast meadows, his destination set firmly in mind. The horseman knew he had little time before the elfling's Guardian began to pursue him, and so he urged his horse to gallop faster, the grass passing below him in a blur. Concentrated firmly on reaching the forest by nightfall, the horseman was oblivious to the child in his arms beginning to stir. He had injured the child, yet not so severely that she would die on the journey, and so he did not anticipate her to awaken for some time. Smirking at the memory of the child's confused, terrified face, and the frantic scorching power, the cloaked horseman pushed on, renewed with purpose to reach his destination.

Isengard.

Murmuring the name, with a sense of pride that he had been entrusted with this task, the horseman loosened his grip on the child, ever so slightly, in order to use a whip to urge the horse to go faster still.

Distracted by the horse's terrified, whinnying cries, the horseman was oblivious to the child awakening. Barking out orders to his horse, knowing the poor beast would not understand his master's rage filled words, the horseman did not look down.

And so...

He failed to notice...

Ithilwen's eyes...

Opening.


	6. Chapter 5- Bloodstained Hands

**Hello all! It's been nearly a week since the last update, so I figured it was time for an update. Before we begin, I just wanted to talk about reviews. Of course, I will continue to write no matter what, but as we've gone on, reviews have been dropping. I get people sometimes can't be bothered to review, I've felt that too on a rare occasion, but...**

It's a little bit disheartening, when sometimes hours are spent doing a chapter, and it receives little feedback. I get super excited when I see reviews, and of course I am grateful for whatever feedback I receive...but when I see how the reviews have declined, it makes me a bit sad. I know I don't know much about Tolkien lore, but this is fanfiction, and I enjoy writing it.

_Please, even if it only says 'Good chapter', or even if you didn't like something, say in a review. Reviews inspire me to keep writing._

**...anyway...on with the chapter. Hope you all enjoy ~**

Warning: Blood, and slight mention of gore.

**Not extreme, but a warning anyway.**

* * *

_"Ithilwen. Where are you?"_

_Giggling, Ithilwen hid amongst the violet flowers of Rivendell's garden, her silk gown, once a pure, beautiful white, now covered in dirt and flower petals. Tears covered the fabric, yet the child did not mind her messy state. Covering her mouth to muffle her laughter, Ithilwen peeked out from between the leaves, her shining emerald eyes perfectly matching the vibrant green of the leaves. Her raven black hair tangled, she looked around, before being picked up. Squealing in surprise, Ithilwen looked up, to see the wrinkle-edged eyes of Gandalf._

_"I have been looking for you." he shook his head as he put her back down, taking her hand._

_"I was playing hiding!" Ithilwen skipped along._

_"I can see that. You ruined your dress. Arwen will not be pleased with you."_

_"Dresses are stupid. They make it hard to run."_

_"That may be, but it is Arwen's birthday today, and you must wear a dress."_

_"Only for today?"_

_"Only for today."_

_"Promise?"_

_"I promise."_

* * *

Still viciously whipping his horse, the cloaked rider was taken aback, and shouted with surprise when Ithilwen woke, struggling against his grip. With surprising strength, the young elfling wrestled free, and Ithilwen tumbled roughly to the ground, crying out on impact, as wounds on her legs were aggravated, and began to bleed. Scrambling, the elf child desperately tried to get away from her captor, despite knowing it was futile. True to that, the captor dismounted his horse, and pulled the elfling up by her hair, causing the child to scream. With a grimace on his face, the cloaked rider held a knife to her throat.

"You will not do that again." the rider hissed, keeping a tight grip on Ithilwen.

Struggling, tears stinging her eyes as her hair threatened to tear from her scalp, Ithilwen's eyes traveled down to the rider's feet. Tucked into his boots, was another dagger, with a shining ivory handle. It beckoned to her, and the young child bit her lip as she realized what she would have to do. Swiftly pulling the dagger out, Ithilwen reached up, and swiped her arm back, cutting through her hair in one swift stroke. The strike took the rider by surprise, and as strands of raven black hair fell to the floor, Ithilwen shakily rose to her feet, fire seeming to ignite in her young eyes as she turned to face the stunned man. Seeing the terror on his face as her eyes began to glow with power, something awakened within Ithilwen, and an uncharacteristically dark grin found its way onto her face.

With a yell, Ithilwen jumped up, and, without hesitation, plunged the dagger into the man's chest, relishing his agonized cry.

* * *

Worry increasing, Gandalf kept his eye on the horizon, the echoing strength of Ithilwen's power growing ever closer. He had not spoken a word on the long journey, which had spanned nearly an entire day. All his strength was focused on finding Ithilwen. Not once did his eyes waver from the landscape in front of him. Beside him, on his tiring horse, Elrond also grew increasingly concerned- several times on their journey, they had spotted blood staining the blades of grass, and not knowing whether it was Ithilwen or her captor, did not make the tense atmosphere any lighter. Along their journey, they had also had to take the liberty of disposing of a few orcs, that had dared to wander close to Rivendell.

Sighing heavily, Elrond frowned as he noticed that Gandalf had paused. Seeing the shocked look on the wizard's face, Elrond paled slightly, before feeling his own face drain of blood, as they were hit by a wave of power, one that stunned the two for a moment. The sheer shock sent shivers down their spines, and a slight feeling of nausea overwhelmed them for but a moment.

The power could only belong to one being, and so the two hastily continued forward.

As they traveled, they heard strangled sobs, the terrified wails of a child. Hearing the screams among the tears, Gandalf urged his horse, Shadowfax, to go faster still, the faithful horse not objecting. Within minutes of hearing the cries, the elf lord and the wizard happened upon a disturbing scene.

Before them, mere feet from them, was a bloodstained Ithilwen, her raven hair messily chopped, and lying in the grass about her. In front of her, was the mangled body of her captor, whose blood had formed a pool around the two of them. Head in her hands, Ithilwen was rocking backwards and forwards, tears streaming down her face. Her throat was raw from her cries and unheard screams, and only when she heard Gandalf dismount, did she turn around.

The look on the little elfling's face broke the elderly wizard's heart...

Dripping with blood, Ithilwen seemed to have aged beyond her years, her eyes, once shining with innocence, were now dead, and glazed over, echoing the grueling act she had performed.

"Ithilwen..." Gandalf knelt down cautiously, holding out an aging hand to the child.

"No!" the elfling backed away, cringing when her hand touched decaying flesh. "Please. Stay...stay away."

"I'm not here to harm you-" Gandalf spoke softly, not wanting to alarm the trembling child.

"I know...just..." Ithilwen backed away, hand still gripping the bloodstained dagger. "Stay away...please..."

Gandalf glanced up at Elrond, who wore an angered expression, before looking back at Ithilwen.

"I don't want to hurt you..."


	7. Chapter 6- Remembering the Past

**Hello everyone! I am back with another chapter! I wasn't sure how to progress, for a while, but after a few drafts, all is well, and I have a fair idea of how I want this to go! There will be a few timeskips, to move the plot along, so this chapter will be slightly longer than normal!**

We got 4 reviews last chapter! Which is awesome, and it will be great if the number of reviews increases even more! I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

_I have planned out the next few chapters, as in, I have notes on where I want to take the story, so in that aspect, things are good too :)_

**Onward!**

Yes, the following part is from Gandalf's perspective. Yes, I am aware that this chapter is rather short...but I am super busy. Not only have I got 2 other fanfics to update this week, but I am also helping family members move house, and have to book a camping trip for me and a friend, as well as personal problems, so I haven't got much spare time to update. I write as much as I can, when I can :')

**Enjoy ~**

* * *

_It has been 10 years. 10 years to the day since the Ithilwen I knew was taken from me. I knew, on the night I found her, bloodstained, innocence ripped away, that she would never return to the way she once was._

_Unfortunately, I was proved right. For two years after that night, after I told her what she truly was, Ithilwen would not allow anyone to touch her. Even I, the one she had once trusted most, was a stranger to her. Even the gentle Arwen, who had cared for Ithilwen since the day I brought her to Imladris, could not get close._

_It took a further few months to begin her training, her...apprenticeship. It took time, and patience, and a full year until she could cast a spell. One would be confused, if they knew the strength of her core, but I knew the true reason._

_For one to cast magic, they must have strength of mind, which is something Ithilwen has struggled with since that night. It has taken many years of practice, but I believe Ithilwen has become a fine master of sorcery. Her methods and fighting style are a little...unorthodox at times, but her command of magical energy is unequalled._

_I have not seen, nor heard from Saruman since the day he ordered that human to take Ithilwen. My mind is not yet at ease, but for Ithilwen, I am glad that Saruman has kept his distance from Rivendell._

_Since that night, raising Ithilwen has been a struggle, fighting her constant rebellion, and breaking through the walls she had once built up around herself, but I would not trade those years for anything in this world._

_And despite all that has happened, I am proud to call her my Apprentice._

* * *

As the sun cast its rays over the Valley of Imladris, the great wizard, Gandalf the Grey, returned from his morning of peace, another spent in quiet meditation, dwelling on his thoughts. He had spent longer in his meditation, for this day, he would be escorting Ithilwen on her first authorized venture out of Rivendell. Over the years, he had caught her far outside the Valley, but this was the day he felt she was ready to leave, and he would be able to set her on her path. Since Ithilwen had not met any new elves for some time, Gandalf had decided that he, along with a message from Lord Elrond, would take Ithilwen to Mirkwood, to the realm of King Thranduil. Gandalf hoped that Ithilwen would find kinship among the more...dangerous woodland elves. Alot of Thranduil's subjects were vastly different to their elven kin, and so the wizard hoped Ithilwen would bond with the elves there.

Shaking his head, the wizard proceeded to Ithilwen's room, pausing outside the door. As always, he could feel the enchantment there, barring the door from all, save for Ithilwen herself. However, whereas in Ithilwen's youth, it was Gandalf himself who casted the enchantments, to keep her safe, it had been the case, for five years, that the she elf would lay her own spells. In the past two years, the strength of the enchantments had long surpassed Gandalf's own spell.

Clearing his throat, Gandalf knocked on the door with his staff. As he did so, he could see the slightest shimmer, as the enchantment lifted. Granted permission to enter, he opened the wooden door, the back covered in marks and chips from Ithilwen's practices. Standing in the doorway, the wizard was surprised to see that his apprentice had already awoken, and was dressed ready, for their journey to Mirkwood. She paused from running an ivory comb through her hair, and stood, turning to face Gandalf. A small smile crossed her face, brightening Gandalf's mood.

"Good morning." Ithilwen nodded, pulling her hair back, beginning to braid it.

"It is a good morning." Gandalf agreed. "The sun shines, and the sky is clear. The weather is certainly good for the first day of our journey."

"How long will the journey last, again?" Ithilwen asked, tying the end of her single braid.

"With the aid of enchantments, we could reach Mirkwood at the end of this week." Gandalf nodded.

"I see..." Ithilwen carefully placed her circlet upon her head, a gift from Gandalf a few years prior.

"You still have that?" Gandalf was surprised. The circlet was not the most intricate, as Gandalf had attempted it himself.

"Of course." Ithilwen's smile brightened, before her face returned to its usual emotionless, neutral expression.


	8. Author's Note- Hiatus

**Hi everyone.**

I'm really sorry to be the bringer of bad news...but I am putting 'Apprentice' on a temporary Hiatus. I am truly sorry to those who still read and review, but my inspiration for this story is pretty much gone...and...yeah...with the amount of feedback declining, my inspiration has also just...gone.

I hope to return to this story soon.

_Apologies_

**-Melting Angels**


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